: Lt Colonel John E. Norvell, David Garbe
: Fighter 'Gator
: BookBaby
: 9781667828596
: 1
: CHF 10.50
:
: Zeitgeschichte (1945 bis 1989)
: German
: 270
: DRM
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB
This story is about Lt Colonel John E. Norvell's quest to fly and David Garbe's work to restore the shell of F-4D 0720. It first focuses on how Norvell got to flight training, then was selected to be a backseater in the F-4, his time in combat in Thailand, and F-4 flying over Alaska, providing 'Top Cover for America.' Then in the appendix covers Garbe's work to find a bird, get the parts, and rebuild the front cockpit area.
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The Old D.C. Blues
Washington, D.C.—February 1968-September 1971
In 1968, a new air force second lieutenant, I arrived at my initial duty station: Bolling Air Force Base in the southwest quadrant of Washington, D.C. Bolling adjoined the Anacostia Naval Station, near the confluence of the Potomac and Anacostia Rivers, and lay on the flats along the water.
Above it, on the bluffs, lay Congress Heights, a one-time residential neighborhood of WWII government workers and the location of the St. Elizabeth’s Hospital complex. Congress Heights had once been a thriving community; as the 1960s progressed, it witnessed a demographic change. Middle-class workers moved across the D.C. line to Maryland, and others displaced by urban renewal replaced them. Below the heights, Bolling and Anacostia took up a large prime real estate area along the river.
On 15 February 1968, I reported to the 1100th Security Police Squadron at Bolling to be one of its officers. I did not know before I arrived that this was the Air Force Honor Guard squadron. This very elite unit performed ceremonies at Arlington National Cemetery, the White House, and the Pentagon. I walked in the door, and the captain in charge took one look at me; I could tell I was not what he expected. To be clear on this: Air Force Honor Guard officers had to be a minimum of 6 feet tall, well built, and not wear glasses. However, I was five foot five inches, built like a fireplug (40-inch chest on 29-inch legs), and wore glasses.
When I walked in, he did a double-take. In today’s world, this would have been like the Imperial Storm Troopers’ commander inStar Wars expecting a new officer and in rolls Artoo Detoo. The captain quickly got on the phone and then hustled me off to the base personnel office. Somewhere in the bowels of air force personnel, someone had a strange sense of humor to assign me there. By noon I found myself in the base plans office as the new head of training.
Being the new training officer, I worked for a major, the chief of the plans office, who had served in World War II. He was ROAD (retired on active duty) for all practi